


Score Points

by Evie_adams273, SunshineScorpius



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Father-Son Relationship, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Malfoy Family Feels, Other, Panic Attacks, argument, draco malfoy is a Good Dad, other pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-14 15:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evie_adams273/pseuds/Evie_adams273, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineScorpius/pseuds/SunshineScorpius
Summary: An argument between Draco and Scorpius causes bad memories to surface for Scorpius.This is based off the work Score Points by @SunshineScorpius - written from a different POV





	Score Points

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SunshineScorpius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineScorpius/gifts).

> Trigger warning: Panic attack

Draco wasn’t entirely sure why he was reading the Daily Prophet. He was well aware that the majority of what it printed was utter bullshit. There were many other more reputable news sources, and yet he always ended up reading the least reliable one. Actually, it was more reliable than the Quibbler, which was somehow still in print.

He didn’t look up as Scorpius entered the kitchen, presuming that he was there to get a drink or something to eat. When Scorpius stopped walking, fiddling with something, Draco still didn’t look up. The article had reached a fairly mellow, interesting point.   
“Hey, dad?”   
“Yes, Scorpius?” he didn’t look up.   
“Would it be okay if–” Scorpius stopped talking, taking a couple more steps forward. “You know that it’s–” He stopped again, mouthing wordlessly to himself.

Draco attempted to keep himself civil, though it did irritate him that his son struggled to talk to him. He understood that he had certain anxieties, but surely he, his father, was not one of them.   
“Spit it out, Scorpius,” he murmured.   
“It’s Albus’ birthday tomorrow and he’s having a party at the Burrow and I was just wondering if I could go because I haven’t seen him in a week and I miss him, and I’d really like to see him for his birthday and he asked me to go so…can I?”

Draco looked up, pulling his glasses off slowly so that he could look at his son properly. He had grown up so much in such a short space of time, and this was proof of that. He could not recall another instance where Scorpius had asked to spend time around a large group of people. Especially a large group of people who had teased him and bullied him over a blatantly false rumour. He let out a sigh slowly, looking back at the paper.   
“No.”   
“No?” Scorpius seemed to stumble over the word in his shock.   
“I said what I said, Scorpius,” Draco said firmly. “You’re not going.”   
“Why not?” Scorpius demanded, taking another step forward.   
“I don’t want you to,” Draco said calmly, “the Burrow is too far away, and you’ve seen Albus every day at school, you can survive the summer without him.”

There was a silence and Draco flicked through the paper again. The conversation was over. Scorpius had asked a question. He had given an answer. Except Scorpius was still stood there, waiting for something.   
“Please, dad?” he said. “It’ll just be for the day and you can take me and pick me up to make sure I get there safe and–”   
“What part of ‘no’ do you not understand?” Draco’s snap echoed loudly around the kitchen as he slammed the paper down on the table.

He stopped himself a little as Scorpius flinched, stepping backwards slightly. He had begun to sway on the spot again and then he took a deep breath.   
“You never let me do anything!” he fired back. “You may be happy being cooped away in here, but it drives me crazy, dad!”   
“You know everything I do is for the best for _you_, Scorpius,” Draco’s thunder broke through again. “Don’t start being ungrateful now.”   
“Ungrateful?” Scorpius’ voice rose slightly. “And how do you suppose this is for the best? How do you suppose that being lonely is for the best?”   
“If protecting you means you have to be lonely, then that’s what I shall do,” Draco said forcefully, standing up. Scorpius took another step back, looking at the floor.   
“I can look after myself,” he muttered, looking back up. “It’s not like you did much protecting after mum died, where were you then, huh?”

Draco took a sharp breath as Scorpius spat the words at him, anger bubbling inside him. The blow was uncalled for, low and carnivorous and hungry. He tried not to allow himself to lose control. It was a desperate thing to say. Scorpius didn’t mean it. He’d done his best in a situation where everyone involved had been beyond words. Except, when Draco looked at his son again, there was still a fire burning in his eyes.

He slammed his fist into the table, feeling the necessity for the satisfaction of the pain in his knuckles and the sound echoing through the kitchen.   
“Do not,” he snarled quietly, “use your mother against me. You do not get to score points that way!”

Scorpius stepped backwards again, his shoulders starting to rise and fall shakily. Draco moved took a step closer, his concern overwhelming his anger, and Scorpius stumbled back a little further. He was starting to shake, his breaths getting smaller and smaller, and that was obviously not his decision.

And then his knees collapsed beneath him and Draco was at his side in a flash, trying to stop him clawing at his throat, trying to stop his son hurting himself. It did nothing however, until he laid a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder.   
“Scorpius–”

Scorpius scrambled away from him, still shaking as Draco tried to speak to him, tried to break through the apparent fear in his son’s mind. He didn’t know what he had managed to force to the surface. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he was going to put the argument aside and help his son.

He walked towards Scorpius again, placing a gentle hand on his back. Scorpius screamed out at him, yelling at him to get away from him. Before Draco could react properly, he had scrambled to the corner, burying his head in his knees. Draco went to him again, but he didn’t try to touch Scorpius this time.   
“Scorpius,” he murmured. “Scorpius, just try to breathe. Slowly. Scorpius.”

Scorpius didn’t respond to his words. Draco attempted to keep himself calm, knowing that if he also panicked, then Scorpius would be in even more danger than he was. However, Scorpius was still not responding to him and Draco was about to attempt to take his hand when he slumped forward into him.

Draco caught him quickly, attempting to help him sit up, before he realised that he was unconscious. His chest was rising and falling, but not quickly enough to prove to Draco that he was breathing properly. He wrapped an arm around Scorpius back, picking him up slowly.

Scorpius was limp in his arms and Draco tried not to think too hard as he hurried to the fireplace, laying Scorpius down again to grab his wand a handful of Floo Powder. Then he stood up again, carrying Scorpius into the flames. This proved a little tricky, as travel on the Floo Network was intended for those standing up. Draco supported Scorpius as best he could as he threw the powder down.   
“St. Mungo’s Hospital,” he said clearly, closing his eyes tightly as the spinning sensation ensued.

As soon as they were spat out of the fireplace of the Hospital, Draco picked up Scorpius properly again. They were in the centre of the foyer, swarming with hundreds of Healers and Patients and visitors, just two more faces in the crowd. Draco walked towards the help desk, unsure of where else he might go that would ensure Scorpius’ safety.

Before he could reach the desk, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see a Healer stood behind him.   
“Help,” the word spilt from his lips. “Please.”   
“What happened?” the Healer asked calmly, conjuring a stretcher that Draco laid Scorpius on slowly.   
“He had a panic attack,” Draco explained. “He isn’t breathing properly.”   
“Right,” the Healer nodded, “this way, Mr Malfoy.”

The conversation ended there and Draco followed the Healer as she walked down several corridors, the stretcher floating beside her. After a few minutes walking, they entered a ward and Scorpius landed on the bed. The Healer pulled an oxygen mask over Scorpius’ face, flicking her wand to allow it to feed Scorpius the gas. Then she turned to Draco.   
“He’ll wake up soon,” she said. “I can’t say exactly when.”   
“Thank you,” Draco said. “Is there – is there anywhere I could make a call?”   
“There’s a phone in the next corridor,” the Healer said.   
“Thank you,” Draco said again.

He turned to Scorpius, taking his hand gently. Once he knew he was alone, he moved a little closer, kissing Scorpius’ forehead where his fringe had fallen back.   
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured.

Then he stood up, taking a deep breath before hurrying down the corridor to where the phone was. He pulled out a little scrap of parchment that Scorpius had given him a few months ago. He had written the Potter’s phone number on it in his near-flawless handwriting, and that was what he dialled now, attempting to keep himself calm.   
“Hello?”   
“Harry?”   
“This is Albus, who is this?”   
“It’s Draco,” Draco said quickly. “Look, I’m – I’m very sorry. Could you come to St. Mungo’s now?”   
“Is Scorpius okay?”   
“He will be.” Those were the only words Draco could manage. “Are you able to come?”   
“Of course,” Albus said. “Give me ten minutes.”

Seven minutes later, Draco was sat by Scorpius’ bed again, now accompanied by Albus. When he had arrived, Albus had run to Scorpius’ side, stroking his hair back from his face and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. Draco had watched, his heart swelling slightly at the love that Albus seemed to posses for his son.   
“What – what happened?” Albus asked quietly after a couple of minutes of silence.   
“We had a disagreement,” Draco explained, equally quiet, “and then he started having a panic attack, a horrific one. I couldn’t calm him down. He couldn’t breathe and he wouldn’t let me anywhere near and then he blacked out. I brought him straight here.”   
“Was the – disagreement – about my birthday?” Albus murmured. “I’m sorry.”   
“I don’t feel entirely comfortable about him being around so many people,” Draco attempted to explain, “especially people who have been a little unpleasant in the past.”   
“I wouldn’t let anything happen,” Albus said quickly. “I hope you know that. I wouldn’t.”   
“I know,” Draco nodded. “I’m just wary.”   
Albus nodded, before looking back. “He had a panic attack this bad because of that?”   
“It escalated a little,” Draco admitted. “I shouted. He – he pointed out that I wasn’t there for him after – after Astoria. It struck a nerve. I got angry.”

Albus’ expression changed slightly and Draco looked at him. It was as if he knew something, but Draco didn’t want to push him to reveal something possibly private.   
“What happened next?” Albus asked. “If I’m allowed to ask.”   
“I got very angry,” Draco hated the words in his mouth. “I told him that he shouldn’t use his mother’s death to score points against me.”   
“Were those your exact words?”   
“Why?”   
“That – that phrase – has been said to him before,” Albus looked at Scorpius again. “In the dark world.”  
“I’ve said that,” Draco bit his lip as it dawned on him.   
“It was what followed that was worse,” Albus murmured. “You – the other you, sorry – pulled his head to the desk. Violently.”

Draco stood up sharply, trying to process this. He – another version of him – had harmed his son. Somehow, a part of him had harmed the most important person in his life.   
“Mr. Malfoy?”   
“I’ll be outside,” he said quickly. “I need to get some air.”

Draco hurried out, crossing the corridor to reach the open window. He took a deep breath as the breeze floated in, trying to comprehend it all. He had harmed his son. Another version of him had willingly hurt his son and he had brought that back up.

He had scared his son. He had terrified the most important person in his life and he was well aware that when Scorpius woke up, he was going to start blaming himself for the argument. He had to be there, to assure him that it was his fault, that he would never, _never_, hurt him. But he needed to clear his head first.

And Scorpius had been right. He hadn’t been there for him when he’d needed it. He hadn’t been there after Astoria and that had taken an unspoken toll. Another toll that he needed to apologise for.

But he couldn’t walk back inside when he was scared of himself. He looked up and down the corridor, noting a drinks machine. He needed a drink, or at the very least, a further excuse for a couple more minutes outside. He was a coward. He was well aware that he was a coward.

He sighed as he slotted a few coins into the machine, ordering two coffees. The liquid trickled out into the cups he placed underneath and he watched, trying to let the sound and smell calm him. It would be okay. Scorpius would be okay. They would both be okay.

When the coffee was done, he forced himself to take a deep breath and turned around again, walking back to the room. Scorpius was sat up in bed, arms wrapped around Albus. He’d been crying and Draco stopped slowly.   
“Scorpius?” he said slowly. “You’re up.”

Scorpius looked up and pulled away from Albus slowly, nodding. He didn’t meet Draco’s eyes, and it wasn’t as if Draco could blame him.   
“Are you – are you okay?”

Albus patted Scorpius on the shoulder reassuringly, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. Scorpius looked up at him nervously.   
“I’ll be just outside,” he murmured.

Albus straightened up, nodding to Draco who smiled gratefully at him, passing him the coffee as he left the room. Draco looked back at Scorpius, who continued to watch Albus until he was out of site. Then he curled up, tucking his knees into his chest, looking up at Draco.   
“I’m sorry,” they said at the same time, before both smiling slightly.   
“I am sorry, dad,” Scorpius said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said those things about – about mum.”   
“No,” Draco moved a little closer cautiously, “you were right. I didn’t protect you after she was gone. I should have done better by you, son. It’s just, she always knew what to do, you know? And suddenly she was gone, and I was left with a child who could barely look me in the eye, who was grieving twice as hard as me. You loved her so fiercely. I know I could have tried harder.”

Scorpius reached out to grab his hand and Draco let him, trying not to let tears spill down his cheeks. He’d never cried in front of Scorpius. He didn’t know whether his mind would allow him to.   
“You tried your best,” Scorpius said. “I’ve never been angry about that. You were grieving too, dad. I knew that, I understood it.”   
“You always were a perceptive child,” Draco smiled gently, wrapping his arms around his son.

Scorpius leaned into the embrace, holding on tightly, and Draco smiled again. It was so rare for them to hug, to be there for one another in that way. He wanted to hold on, and so did Scorpius, apparently.

But he needed to apologise. The knowledge of what he had done was too prominent in his thoughts to ignore, and he pulled away slowly.   
“Albus told me,” he said quietly. “About what I did in that other world. I am so sorry, truly. You’re my baby boy, I would never hurt you.”

And then he couldn’t stop the tears. The spilt down his face, too many of them to wipe away. And he let them come. They needed to come. He had never cried in front of Scorpius before, and now he could barely see through the blur of his vision. He could feel Scorpius moving slightly, but he didn’t react properly.   
“I’m sorry, dad!” Scorpius said quickly, wrapping his arms around his dad again. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you would hurt me, I know you wouldn’t. I just got scared and panicked, I’m so, so, so, sorry. I love you.”   
“I love you, Scorpius,” Draco murmured.

And then they were both crying, sobbing into each other’s shoulders. But they didn’t let go. They stayed, healing and helping each other, because they both needed it. After so long with both their walls still up, it was almost a relief to have them come crashing down, to have the space to be vulnerable, even if it only was the beginning.

Draco vowed, somewhere in the midst of the emotions in his mind, he vowed to never let himself get angry at his son. Because Scorpius would always be healing, and because talking was always more effective. Talking would help them both.

Being human would help them most.

**Author's Note:**

> So, thank you soooo much for permission to write this. I would 100% recommend @sunshinescorpius 's work if you haven't read it.  
Thanks for reading  
Kudos and Comments appreciated  
Twitter/Wattpad @evieadams273


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